


I tried to get it off my mind (To leave it all behind)

by spiromachia



Series: Dream SMP AUs and Cannon Divergence [5]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Dadza, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Breakdown, Older Sibling Technoblade, Older Sibling Wilbur Soot, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Running Away, Sad TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit Friendship, Toby Smith | Tubbo and TommyInnit Run Away, TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Swears (Video Blogging RPF)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:35:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27543925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiromachia/pseuds/spiromachia
Summary: Even after one and a half years away, Tommy still remembered the path back to Pogtopia like the back of his hand. He hardly even needed to look as he ducked and weaved under tree branches, clambered over the worn out path by the hill and recognised the exact entrance to the cave system.He hesitated at the door.A calming hand gently touched his shoulder, "Come on in, mate. They'll be waiting for you.""What if... what if they don't want to see me?""They do, I promise. Just come inside."Tubbo gave his hand a small squeeze and sent him a reassuring smile before clambering through the gap in the vines.OrTwo days before the festival, Tommy and Tubbo run away to start a new life on the other side of the server. One and a half years later, they return to the land that was once their home.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, because ew why would you do that
Series: Dream SMP AUs and Cannon Divergence [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2149863
Comments: 120
Kudos: 1850
Collections: Completed stories I've read, Found family to make me feel something





	1. Find it in yourself

_"I mean, we could just run away and we'd never have to..."_

_"We could just start a new life."_

_"We-we'd have everything we'd ever wanted."_

_"We'd have everything we cared about..."_

_"...this isn't our responsibility, Tubbo. To stay."_

_"I know."_

_"I mean, as much as I hate to admit that they're right, we're just... we're just teenagers. Do you know any other teenagers who've had to fight a war? Multiple wars?"_

_"I mean, Purpled's our age, Quackity's not much older than us."_

_"We're not supposed to be here. None of us are."_

_"I don't think this was supposed to happen."_

_..._

_"Meh, I was never going to be president anyway."_

)()()(

They left at nightfall.

Two days before the festival, they were ready, clothes packed, armour stashed away in their inventories, swords and weapons sheathed at their sides, food to last them an entire week before finding a camp, things to remember their friends by.

Niki's flowery hair pin, the notepad Fundy had gifted Tubbo on his birthday the year before, Quackity's old beanie, one of Eret's bottles of nail polish and sheet of pink wool with 'you matter~<3' penned onto it, one of the pistons that Sam lent Tubbo a while ago, an old basket gifted to Tommy by Ponk and Punz long before the war, Sapnap's flint and steel that Tommy had used to burn down the Eiffel tower, George's pair of old, damaged goggles, the neatly written notes that Bad had passed to Tubbo during his time by Schlatt's side, the hoodie that Tommy had stolen from Skeppy before the the election, Karl's jumper that he'd lent to Tubbo when he was cold.

They didn't need anything for Wilbur, Techno or Schlatt.

Tommy's heart ached at just the thought of his fellow Pogtopians. He still remembered the day he'd first met them, on a call with Wilbur over SMP Earth, helping Technoblade with his potato farm to win the famous potato war. Things had seemed so easy back then, simple and straightforward, picking fights and wars for the sake of causing chaos, destroying the competition, feeling the power flowing though him as he stood by Techno, Wilbur and Philza's sides, the kings of the hill.

Then people started joking that they were like a family, with the dynamic of arguing siblings and their tired, yet still equally as chaotic dad, and Tommy laughed along with them because 'haha funny joke' but one day, Tommy heard Wilbur fondly saying, 'He's like my little brother. My annoying little brother,' and his stomach flipped, his eyes grew wide and his mouth dropped open. He couldn't believe it. He felt so happy that he might have been sick. Soon, Phil started joking about it too, calling Wilbur and Techno and Tommy his sons and Tommy's heart continued to race, his face hurting from grinning like a mad man whenever Techno gave him a basic compliment, or when Phil gave him fatherly advice or when Wilbur sang him his new song, not heard by anyone else before. It made him feel special. It made him feel at home.

But oh how stupid he was.

Now look at him. Ready to leave his not-brothers behind. The events of recent days had opened his eyes to the truth, the hard, soul crushing truth. He was never their brother. He realised that Wilbur hadn't looked at him with anything other than disgust in weeks, but he was too blind and paranoid to see it, too busy worrying about the state of Pogtopia and how Tubbo was fairing under Schlatt's dictatorship rule. Just an annoying brat who nipped at his heals and got in his way. He realised that Technoblade had never even called him his brother, or his friend, or even an acquaintance. Just someone who followed him around like a parasite, seeping off his glory and feeding off his abilities.

He realised that Philza hadn't written back in months.

Tommy swallowed his shame and turned back to Tubbo, both of the boys shrouded in some of Dream's old, dark green ponchos to disguise themselves in the foliage. The world was silent, save for the sounds of distant mobs groaning and sheep bleating.

"Are you ready?"

"Yeah... I think I am."

"Good."

With that, Tommy hauled Tubbo onto the back of Techno's horse, and they were off, galloping over the hills and into the deep unknown of neutral territory. As soon as they were far enough away, Tubbo let out a whoop of victory and Tommy felt a smile cross his face. The sun set over the horizon.

Neither of them looked back.

)()()(

Niki stared at the paper in shock, tears leaking down her face, smudging her eyeliner. They were gone. Gone from Manberg and Pogtopia. Gone. Those little boys that she'd watched grow into bright young teenagers, forced apart by a war, by their friends and family, betrayed by the ones they thought they could trust.

_'I'm sorry we're leaving you alone, and I'm sorry that I'm too much of a coward to say goodbye to you in person._

_Maybe one day, we'll meet again,'_

A shaky smile graced her lips.

Now they could fly free.

"Take you time, Tommy, Tubbo. Take your time. I'll be here when you get back, I promise."

)()()(

Quackity read through the note again and again and again. This couldn't be real. None of this felt real, like a horrific nightmare. He kept reading the line, _'Wilbur has gone insane and plans to blow up Manberg on the day of the festival'_ repeatedly until none of the words looked real anymore. None of this was right. But now that he thought about it, he hadn't seen Tubbo all day. He hadn't come in through the door, like he usually did, with a small, nervous smile and a new stack of paperwork to fill out, before making idly chit chat while they both procrastinated their work, laughing and jeering and teasing all the while.

He was gone.

The door of his office slammed open, revealing a dishevelled looking George, holding a half crumpled piece of paper in his hand, his eyes wide in disbelief and fear.

"Quackity-"

"I know," the Mexican interrupted, holding up his letter for his colleague to see, his eyes reflecting that same horror, "I hate to say it, but we have to tell Schlatt."

)()()(

Wilbur's eyes didn't leave the paper, his hands shaking violently. No. This was fake. He was dreaming. What kind of sick illusion was this? Was he really so far gone? He clenched the note and creased the edges through trembling fingers. No. No, no, no, no, no. This was a lie, this was fake, it's not real, it's not real.

Before he could stop it, a bubble of laughter escaped his lips.

_'I hope that one day, I will be able to face you, but for now, do not try to contact me._

~~_I hope you're happy with yoursel'_ ~~

So this was it? This was how the story went? The universe laughing in his face as the one person on the planet that he still trusted with his life left him in the dust, running away like the traitor Wilbur always knew he was.

So what? He didn't need Tommy, or Tubbo, or anyone. He didn't need them. He didn't...

Then why did his chest hurt so much?

)()()(

They had taken Techno's fastest horse as they'd left. It was like the world was pulling a good old _'Fuck You'_ just to add insult to injury, trying to rub more salt into the already burning wound.

Technoblade stared down at the note, feeling nothing. It wasn't short by any means, revealing inner thought after inner thought, filled with implications that would only mean anything to those who looked for them, but Techno was nothing if not analytical, reading in between the lines of every sentence carefully until the words were burned into his mine. He used to study English, after all. He knew what he was doing. Tommy'd obviously put a lot of effort into his words, scratching out sentences in the hopes that the blood god would never read them. Unluckily, the words could still be made out.

~~_'I know you never cared in the first place.'_ ~~

~~_'Do you keep me around out of pity?'_ ~~

~~_'Did you ever even care at all?'_ ~~

He didn't know if the unlucky one was Tommy or himself.

)()()(

He no longer cared for the black nail polish that he'd been painting his nails with, fully focused on the paper before him, eyes filled with shock behind the dark sunglasses, chest churning with grief. Anger? Regret?

Guilt.

He'd done this, implanted the seed of doubt and distrust when he'd stabbed them in the back, the first to trade everything for empty wealth and material reward. The first, but not the last. No one would ever be the last.

_'We forgive you.'_

Eret stared out of the windows of his castle, where the sun was already high in the sky. He knew they were long gone. There was no opportunity to say goodbye, to wish them luck, to apologise for his mistakes and his greed.

All he could do now was send them his best wishes and hope for the best.

)()()(

"Gone... just like that?" worry etched into Karl's features as he paced the wooden home.

"Yeah," Sapnap sighed, holding his paper to his eyes, laughing bitterly, "Shit heads took my flint and steel too. Bastards..."

"Yup... that sounds like something they'd do," Dream chuckled, dropping his hands into his lap. No one had ever just... run away from his SMP before. They'd always stayed close by, maybe just out of sight, but they way that the boys had worded it made it seem like they were long gone, far beyond the reaches of the SMP.

_'Why did you have to side with Wil? I thought I could trust you._

~~_I can't trust anyone anymo'_ ~~

Dream had always been on the side of chaos, willing to switch sides at the drop of a hat, but he never even thought how much damage such betrayal would cause to a pair of sixteen year old children.

He'd shot a child, on that day.

"I should have done more..." Karl whispered quietly, regret echoing in his voice.

"I hope they make it out," Sapnap looked longingly out of the window, "Those brats deserve some peace."

Dream followed his gaze, "Yeah. Yeah they do."

)()()(

In a hidden base in a mountain, hidden behind a redstone activated wall, a man lifted his creeper mask above his eyes to get a better look at the note in his hands.

"Good luck you two. Go fuck up the world," Sam's hands were shaking almost unnoticeably, but even then, a sad smile found it's way onto his face. He'd only known Tubbo for a few weeks but already they had build grand contraptions and traps to prank people around Manberg, bonding over their mutual love for redstone, the boy telling him stories about his time with Tommy, a boy who, no matter how much he half-heartedly insisted was a traitor, he obviously couldn't hate, even if they were on opposite sides of the war.

_'Thank you for giving me a safe space to build and create outside of Schlatt's dictatorship. I meant the world to me.'_

"I know you can do it, little man. I know you can."

)()()(

Fundy's breathing stuttered, his eyes refusing to leave the paper in front of him. Tubbo and Tommy. Gone.

He wondered maybe, if he could have prevented this, if he just ran away to Pogtopia with his allies instead of laying low in within the boundaries of Manberg, no one knowing of his 'Diary of a Spy' except himself, or if he told Tubbo about his plans to betray Schlatt and gave him someone to trust and confide in. Maybe then, they wouldn't be in this mess.

_'I hope you are happy with yourself.'_

He choked out a sob, hardly noticing as his knees buckled from under him.

He'd really fucked up, hadn't he.

)()()(

BadBoyHalo didn't even chastise Skeppy for the long string of curses that left his lips, too busy trying to keep tears from falling down his face.

"What the hell?! This can't be happening."

Bad couldn't have said it any better.

The letter was written by Tommy, filled to the brim with swearwords and curses that would make Bad's mother faint, but it brought a wet smile to his face. It was good to see he'd never changed, despite the war.

_'I know I won't be there to hear it, but just say one swear for me, big man. Please.'_

He chuckled, allowing a tear to streak down his cheek.

"Of course Tommy would ask that..."

"What?"

"He asked me to swear for him."

"Are you gonna do it?" Skeppy asked, amusement sounding almost hysterical.

Bad looked at his friend with eyes filled with tears.

"No. I'm going to wait until I see him again. The muffin head deserves to hear it."

)()()(

Ponk and Punz shared a look over their note.

"So that's it? They're just leaving?" Ponk asked.

"I guess so..." Punz responded. 

"Good for them," A voice rang behind them. The two turned to see Purpled, holding his own piece of paper in hand, face pinched like he was trying not to show any emotions, "They're only kids."

"So are you," Ponk shot back. Purpled only nodded, glancing back down at his note again.

_'None of us should be fighting this war. We just want to be free.'_

"I'm glad that they could get away. That makes them braver than I'll ever be."

)()()(

Schlatt growled, crumpling his note into a tiny ball and chucking it over his shoulder. His plan was ruined. His plan to expose Tubbo as a traitor had been completely sabotaged by the boy himself, who had decided to run away like a coward, his tail between his legs.

_'I was never your right hand man.'_

He'd known he'd been the traitor all along.

_'We've had enough of the violence.'_

Tubbo was a traitor.

_'You tore down everything we fought so hard to create.'_

He'd made the boy plan his own execution, for god's sake. He didn't care.

_'Long live L'manberg.'_

So why did his chest feel empty?

The door to his office opened with an ear splitting bang, and the president flinched. He snapped his gaze to his two colleagues, both looking equally panicked, holding a note in each of their hands.

"What the fuck?!-"

"Wilbur plans to blow up Manberg!" Quackity interrupted and Schlatt's stomach dropped even lower, "On the day of the festival, he's been sneaking in and placing TNT under the podium."

"He was gonna blow it up during Tubbo's speech but..." George didn't finish the sentence.

"With Tubbo gone, there's no telling when he'll blow it up... Quackity!" the dark haired man's eyes snapped to the president, "Get a group of men to collect and safely dispose of the TNT. George, hold a meeting to explain the situation. Call all citizens of Manberg to Whitehouse."

"Y-yes sir!" Quackity saluted sloppily before booking it out of the door like his trousers were on fire, with George hot on his heels as Schlatt sighed into his hands, completely emotionally exhausted.

He needed a drink.

)()()(

In another server entirely, a man raised his eyes to the sun, high in the sky above his head. He squinted, holding his hand up to block out the sharp rays of light that beat down on him in the hot, late spring day, suddenly very glad he'd decided to wear his bucket cap. He wiped his brow, pulling strands of dirty blond hair from his eyes and holding an enchanted, soil speckled, netherite hoe loosely in his right hand, covered in dirt from where it had been ploughed into the earth. The wheat harvest was good this year. He wouldn't have to worry about food for a long time yet. 

He was pulled out of his thoughts when his communicator buzzed in his pocket.

)()()(

"Come on, dickhead, it's your turn."

"I swear I did it yesterday!"

"No. _I_ did it yesterday. You planted the wheat seeds and tended to the crops."

Tommy groaned childishly, taking the shovel from Tubbo's hands, who was grinning evilly. Around them, the trees swayed gently, leaves floating onto the flower bed bellow them, where bees busied themselves more than ever before the approaching cold eventually came. It was the beginning of autumn now, the green of the surroundings beginning to lose their colour, turning a gorgeous shades of fiery orange, yellow, red and brown. The days were getting shorter and the air colder. To others, they might had disliked the cold, but the boys knew this meant sleeping in on weekday mornings and warm hot chocolates by the hearth.

"Can I not?" Tommy whined, only to get smacked upside the head.

"No. You asked for those cows now you are going to take care of them."

"But-"

"No buts. Now off with you, those cow pats aren't going to clean themselves."

They'd been away from L'manberg for nearly a year and a half at this point, building their new lives from the ground up, creating a small farm filled with cows and sheep, grew crops from the seeds they found in the grass and built a nice, cosy cabin for themselves to live in. They were well off too, with diamond and netherite armour to spare.

They'd only seen anyone else once. Tommy was mining in the nether, completely oblivious to his surroundings when he heard it from a distance.

_("HEY!! WHO'S THERE!?"_

_Tommy flinched violently, nearly tripping over himself at the noise, almost dropping the gold in his hands, the sound of another human voice long since foreign to his ears. He snapped his head up, only to see a fast approaching figure, wearing a green hoodie covered by enchanted netherite armour and a mask to disguise his face._

_Dream._

_The boy muttered a curse under his breath before dropping down from his perch and bolting in the other direction, adrenalin already pumping through his veins. He couldn't fight Dream. All he had on him was some worn down diamond armour and golden boots to keep the local piglins away._

_His only option was to run._

_He took as many twists and turns as he could, hearing the man yelling at him to come back, before raising his pickaxe and mining into the wall, swiftly covering the entrance to his little hole with netherack. He didn't stop there, proceeding to dig further and further into the wall, blocking himself in more and more, using his once-enemy's own tactic against him and ignoring the way that walls seemed to cram him in ("Wilbur, let me out. You know I have claustrophobia. W-Wil!!") until the sound of shouting dulled down. Distantly, he could hear the sound of someone yell in frustration before the world went eerily quiet. He let out a breath of relief._

_Suddenly he was very glad to have been wearing a mask that day.)_

The boys were happy. Happy on their makeshift farm. They had everything they'd ever wanted, just like they knew that they would the day they decided to run, to leave behind the world that had hurt them.

But they didn't have everything they cared about.

If Tommy was being honest with himself, he missed it. He missed Wilbur's hair ruffles and the sound of his old friend's humming as he peeled carrots for dinner. He missed sparring with Techno, the thrill and the rush of adrenalin boiling under his veins, finally set free by a good fight. He missed Niki's homemade loafs of bread and warm cups of tea on cosy winter mornings. He missed Fundy's pranks, chasing after each other, yelling about their latest escapade. He missed mining with Dream, chatting idly despite their past differences. He missed Eret's castle filled with so much acceptance and love that it hurt, as much as he wished he could still hate the traitor.

Wasn't that what they were now? Traitors?

"Can't we have lunch first? I'm starving Big T."

The boy in questioned sighed, sending his brother a disinterested look before shrugging his shoulders in defeat.

"Fine, but you have to set the table."

They'd long since gotten over the awkwardness of calling each other brothers. They'd long since gotten over the embarrassment of holding hands or sleeping in the same bed or saying 'I love you'. They were close before, sure, but their time together brought them so much closer. They were like a family now... no.

They _were_ family.

The thought of family brought an ache to Tommy's chest. He used to have a family before. In Wilbur and Techno and Philza, but look how far that got him. Betrayed and isolated from his own country.

"Tubbo?"

"Mhm?"

Tommy hesitated, thinking it through before he continued.

"I... can... can I check the comms?"

Tubbo stopped from where he was slicing the bread, suddenly deathly still.

"...what?"

"Tubbo," Tommy breathed, knowing that this would be the reaction, "It's been nearly a year and a half since we left and- and we haven't looked at the comms since. I... I feel better, you know. The expectations are gone and... fuck Tubbo I miss them. I miss them so much... don't you?"

His brother's breath hitched, before he turned his body to face him, "I do. I really do."

"Do you feel ready, big man? You don't have to if you don't want to. We have plenty of time to wait."

"I... yeah. I think I want to."

They sat down on their home-made sofa, and both opened their communicators. With a deep breath, he and Tubbo shared a look before pressing the power buttons. Immediately, the number of notifications struck Tommy to his core.

_-2397 Unread Notifications_

He heard Tubbo's breathing stutter as he looked down at his own 2150 unread messages, becoming 2151 messages after a couple of moments.

The majority of them were from Wilbur (the sum of them totalling over 500 of the overall messages), with a surprising amount from Eret and Fundy and Dream. The one that surprised Tommy most of all was Technoblade.

_Technoblade whispered to you: Wilbur told me to message you._

_Technoblade whispered to you: It's past sunset. Wilbur's getting mad that you're not back yet._

There was a time skip of a few hours.

_Technoblade whispered to you: I got your note._

_Technoblade whispered to you: I'm not mad (or surprised honestly) just tell me where you are._

A day later.

_Technoblade whispered to you: Tommy?_

Another day later.

_Technoblade whispered to you: This isn't a game Tommy. Tell me where you are._

Two days later.

_Technoblade whispered to you: Are you even reading these?_

Tommy gawked at the 100+ messages from Techno. It seemed the man messaged him at least once a week, always asking him to come back in some way, shape or form, giving him updates on Wilbur's mental health, which seemed to be improving, updates on Pogtopia as a whole and other general stuff, like how his potato farm was going or how he'd recently decorated his new base in the snowy mountains, as if he wasn't messaging on a one sided conversation. As if Tommy was actually responding. He scrolled through, noticing how the man who was once his ally _(could he have ever even called him his friend?)_ never missed a week, always messaging at the same time, on the same day, with other smaller updates scattered throughout. This was probably to most messages the man had sent in his life. He'd gone from ignoring the boy's texts to being the only one of the two to send them, despite the radio silence. The irony was almost laughable.

There was one that stood out to him the most.

_Technoblade whispered to you: It's quiet without you._

That was it. That was the message, but it held so much meaning and power that Tommy's stomach dropped. He'd never received any kind of affection from Technoblade, only compliments that he was always too willing to take back not a moment later, maybe a pat on the shoulder for a job well done. The most affection he had ever received was after they won MCC, where the man had clasped his hand in victory, a grin almost splitting his face in half as they both screamed, "WE WIN THESE!!"

Oh how long ago those memories seemed.

Tubbo wasn't doing any better, scrolling through the endless messages from Quackity, the man also giving him updates about Manberg, how all conflict had ground to a halt after their disappearances, both sides teaming up to send out search parties. Minor conflict had occurred months after, but it was never fully hearted, one side backing down before it could even get going. The TNT was removed, the festival was cancelled, Schlatt's rule was mellowed, no longer a complete dictatorship.

Fundy had messaged them both, apologising profusely about his role in their absence, explaining that he was trying to be a spy too, but ended up doing too good of a job at playing his role of a loyal Manbergian, causing the rebellion to lose all faith in him. There were typos in his messages, plagued with spelling mistakes and keyboard smashes.

Niki had sent them a lot less than they had expected, the final one being a curt, _'Take as long as you need. I'll always be there for you.'_

Eret's messages were mostly made up of encouragement, with the slight apology sprinkled in here and there. He gave too gave them updates on Manberg, the state of the politics, how Wilbur had come to his door, practically begging Eret to have seen either of them, only to break down after hearing that the man had also been receiving radio silence.

Dream's messages were mostly him screaming about _'How the fuck am I not able to find you??? I'm the admin, I should be able to get your cords???'_ and _'Was that you, out in the nether today, Tommy?'_

Schlatt was surprising. Tubbo received only one message from Schlatt but it was jumbled and messy, words not making any sense. The message was obviously written while drunk, but it was long and convoluted, the general consensus being, _'I was going to make you plan your own execution and I feel really really guilty.'_

The boy's gut swirled nauseously. Giving the festival a swerve had been a good call.

Wilbur's messages were plentiful and pitiful, almost all of them filled with scrawl about insanity and forgiveness. Tommy elected to ignore them, not wanting to feel more sick than he already did.

The rest of the messages were distributed mostly equally, both boys receiving messages of thanks from George for giving them warning about the TNT, from Sapnap, Dream, Karl, Sam, Ponk, Punz, Purpled, all hoping that they're okay. Tommy received messages from Skeppy, who promised to give him his disc back in return for them to come home, practically begging him to. A promise from Bad that he would swear if he ever saw him again.

There were texts in the general chat, mostly people frantically asking others if they had also received a note, asking if anyone had seen Tommy or Tubbo, making arrangements for public meetings and search parties, before the messages slowly became more and more normal, people asking each other for wheat seeds, asking to go mining together, messaging each other hello and good morning. There were a few death messages in the chat, but nothing too extreme. Nothing about being blown up by TNT or receiving the achievement for fighting the Wither.

His inbox was basically empty of all messages from members of the SMP, however, Tommy had received messages from outside the SMP, Scott Smajor asking where he was and if he'd be re-joining MCC, only to get more worried as the messages continued. CaptainSparklez had messaged a few times, asking him if he'd been in touch with Tubbo recently, only to become frantic at his lack of response. Wisp, Timedeo, LukeOrSomething and Bitzel had all messaged him repeatedly, demanding that he answer, telling him they were worried.

Then there were messages from Philza.

_Message from Philza: Tommy???? Wilbur just told me you'd ran away, what happened?_

_Message from Philza: Tommy, answer right now young man this is serious._

_Message from Philza: Tubbo's not responding either. Has something happened to you two??_

_Message from Philza: Please, just get back to me when you can._

_Message from Philza: At least let your brothers know that you're safe. They're worried sick._

Tommy cringed at the word brother. Why did Phil insist on using it? Couldn't he see that Techno and Wilbur never thought of him that way?

_Message from Philza: Where are you, Tommy??_

_Message from Philza: If anything's happened to you I swear to god._

_Message from Philza: Please just be safe._

_Message from Philza: I've only just received your letters. I'm so so sorry I wasn't there to help you._

_Message from Philza: I know it's not an excuse but I was busy building Endlantis, I didn't see them._

_Message from Philza: I'm so so so sorry._

Philza joined the server

_Philza whispered to you: I'm going to fix things around here._

_Philza whispered to you: When you get back, I promise to keep you safe._

_Philza whispered to you: I promise._

_Philza whispered to you: The others told me you gave them notes? Why didn't I receive one?_

_Philza whispered to you: Just be safe, okay? I'm in Pogtopia if you ever need me._

Tommy felt something squeeze his hand and he looked up, only to realise that he couldn't see anything through the blur of tears in his eyes. Tubbo was holding his hand tightly in his own, water flooding down his cheeks as he supressed sobs.

"I miss them. I miss them, so, so much," Tommy choked.

"I know big man," Tubbo smiled shakily. Slowly, he brought his arms up in an open gesture. An invitation.

Tommy didn't hesitate to throw himself into his brothers arms, crying louder than he had in a year, since he'd lost everything to his brother's greed. Tubbo was similarly distressed, his chest hiccupping in an attempt to keep himself from releasing his own cries of pain and anguish. They held each other tightly, neither of them saying a word and neither of them having to. A cold breeze blew outside their house.

"I just... I just want them back, Tubbo..."

"I know, Tommy. I know. I do too."

"Do you think... do you think we could- do you think we're ready?" Tommy asked through his laboured breaths.

Tubbo stared at him, something unreadable in his eyes before he nodded, hesitantly at first, "Yeah... yeah I think so, Tommy. I think so."

On the other side of the server, Dream typed a frantic message into his communicator, hands shaking from adrenalin. The message was short and sweet, any more and the man might have dropped his comm from trembling so hard.

_Dream: GUYS TOMMY AND TUBBO HAVE READ MY MESSAGES!!!!!_

)()()(

They set of two days later.

With Dream announcing that they'd read the messages to the entire SMP, their inboxes had been quickly refilled. Tommy had never seen that many keyboard smashes in his life. He glanced down at the general chat, the messages from last night were still living basically rent free in his head

_Philza: Tommy??? Tubbo???_

_Nihaachu: OH MY GOODNESS!! TOMMY!!! TUBBO!!!_

_Eret: OH MY GOD!!!_

_Punz: ARE YOU SERIOUS??!!?_

_Fundy: HE'S READ MINE AS WELL!!!!_

_WilburSoot: tommy? tubbo? is this real?? im not dreaming? please tell me im not dreaming_

_JSchlatt: oh my god_

_awesamdude: YOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!_

_Purpled: JESUS CHRIST!!!_

_Technoblade whispered to you: Tommy?_

_Quackity: NO WAY NO WAY!!11!!_

_GeorgeNotFound: OOOH MY GOD!!!!_

"Are you ready?" Tubbo asked from across the room, shuffling the backpack on his shoulder.

They'd packed their things, enchanted their weapons, fed and released their livestock into open fields, ensured the bees had enough sugar to survive the winter and said goodbye to their house, both boys saluting the place they had come to call a home, something close to tears in their eyes. The original track to their new home had been a week long, but with the co-ordinates open on their communicators, they were bound to make it back to Manberg in record time. Mounting their horses and pulling their cloaks above their heads they gave each other a curt nod before setting off back to the land they once knew. 

Instead of taking a full week, like last time, this ride was only two days, with far faster horses and a lot less breaks, only too soon did they see the docks in the far distance, causing Tommy's stomach to drop but his heart to soar. It had been a full year and a half since he'd seen them. It was the small things that he missed, like the nearby mountains and the long winding rivers.

As they approached Manberg, their horses slowed, until they were walking at a steady pace. 

"I'm so nervous man," Tubbo said through a grin, his hands holding the reigns in a white-knuckled grip.

"We'll be fine, Tubbo," Tommy was glad that he sounded much more calm than he was, his entire being filled with nervous energy, leaving him jittery, clenching and unclenching his own fists, "We'll be fine."

He pulled his communicator out of his pocket, his fingers trembling slightly as he typed out his message.

_TommyInnit: Hey fellas. Did you miss us?_

The response was instantaneous and the blond almost winced at the amount of responses to his message. Somewhere in the distance, he heard multiple cries of pure joy, someone yelled so loudly that the sound echoed right out to the dock. The boys tied up their horses on a fence post before heading straight towards Manberg's centre, Tubbo's hand held tightly in Tommy's. He took a deep breath, sharing one last glance with his friend before they pushed through to the podium.

The place was different than they'd remembered it. The cruel, cobble and blackstone podium was replaced with a warm, wooden stage, the festival decorations had long since been taken down and replaced with bushes and plants and vines, small flower pots placed on window sills and new trees were still growing into themselves on the outskirts. Tubbo breathed a sigh of relief. It was one thing to hear that it hadn't been blown up, it was another thing to see it for themselves, newly refurbished and looking better than ever. New houses scattered the outskirts of the area, ones that neither Tommy nor Tubbo recognised. It seemed that someone had been renovating.

They heard a loud gasp from behind them.

Niki.

Niki looked different. Healthier. The bags that once plagued her eyes had lessened, painted with only a small coat of concealer that was currently running down her face, causing her eyes to become red and puffy. She wore an apron dusted in flour and soil over a white button up shirt, clutching a basket filled with wheat in her hands. The woman didn't hesitate to bolt straight for them, flinging open her arms and throwing them around the boys, tugging them into one of the tightest hugs they'd ever experienced, so hard that they all fell into a pile on the floor.

"Tommy! Tubbo!" she cried into their necks, pulling them closer to her still. It was slightly awkward, due to the height difference, but none of them cared.

"Hey Niki," Tommy muttered into the crook of her neck, smiling softly, taking it all in.

"We promised we'd meet again, didn't we?" Tubbo grinned, tears falling already.

"Oh my god," she pulled away patting them both on their faces, as if checking that they were really there, "I can't- I can't believe this. You're actually... here- you're actually here. I missed you so much... Look at how much you've grown!"

"We missed you too," Tubbo's cheeks started to burn.

"Do you mind if I..." Niki held her communicator in her hand and both boys nodded. She quickly typed their co-ordinates into her comm before shoving it back into her pocket and replanting herself by their sides on the floor, muttering a small, "I just can't believe it."

"It's good to see you again, Niki," Tommy closed his eyes, taking in the warmth and the safety of the woman's presence.

The next to arrive were Eret and Fundy, who both appeared together, sprinting into the city centre panting and catching their breaths. The second that they saw the three on the floor, their faces lit up. They met the group on the cobblestone, practically falling over themselves and dragging the boys into their own hugs, Eret holding Tommy tightly in his arms and Fundy gripping Tubbo's shirt, muttering apology after apology into his chest.

"I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry," Fundy didn't lift his head from Tubbo's neck, refusing to let go, like the boy might disappear if he did.

"I forgive you," Tubbo mumbled, gripping back just as tightly, feeling the shoulder of his shirt become wet with tears.

Eret clung to Tommy like a lifeline, pulling the boy's head into his chest and breathing a shaky sigh of pure relief, "I'm so glad your safe. You're back. You're finally back."

"We sure are big man," usually, Tommy might have protested such PDA, but not today. Today, he would be happy enough to sit in the arms of his once-enemy, now turned friend. He distantly noticed that the man no longer wore royal robes or his golden crown, which was replaced with light blue flowers, weaved together by delicate hands.

"God, you're as tall as me now," Eret laughed wetly, pulling back to look at him, cupping his friend's face in his hands.

Before Tommy could come up with a funny come back, Eret removed his sunglasses. He'd only ever done it once before, and it was hardly an emotional moment. The man had pulled the shades from his eyes with a smug expression, causing Tommy to start sputtering in complete disbelief at the sight, before whispering a proud, 'They'll never believe you,' and walking away and leaving Tommy completely confused and utterly enraged. It was one of the funnier memories that he shared with the man.

A moment of silence passed over them.

"I'm so glad you're back, Tommy. L'manberg wasn't the same without you," he smiled, glowing white eyes glazed over with unshed tears.

The sound of fast approaching footsteps interrupted them, and Tommy turned just in time to have Skeppy basically knock him further onto the ground, wrapping his arms around him with what could only be considered a war cry. Following on from behind, was a worn out looking BadBoyHalo.

"Where have you been you muffin heads?!" Bad cried out, kneeling down as well. Skeppy didn't say a word, not trusting his own voice to keep steady.

"Oh, you know. Around," Tommy said with a grin, but it wasn't smug or teasing.

"You scared the..." Bad's lips flattened, as if contemplating something before taking one of the deepest breath's Tommy had ever heard, "You scared the shit out of us, Tommy!"

"OH MY GOD!!!" Tubbo barked out a surprised laugh, while the others stared at the man with disbelief, "You madlad, we didn't think you'd actually do it!"

"I made a promise, didn't I?"

"Oh my god," Skeppy snorted, "This has just been a rollercoaster of a day."

"Skeppy started crying when he saw you'd read his messages."

"DID NOT!!"

"Did too!"

The others laughed though tears, Tommy's cheeks beginning to hurt more and more. Of course he'd realised that he'd missed this, on some nights he had lied away, staring at the ceiling and reminiscing about the past, before the war, before the election, before they'd ran away, but now that he was actually here a warm feeling had pooled in his stomach, aching and burning so much, so many emotions raging under his skin.

"Tubbo!!" the sound of wings caught the group's attention and they all looked up to see Quackity, duck wing's flapping excessively with the effort required to keep hold of the man in his arms, "Tubbo! Tommy!! Holy shit!"

The man swooped down, carrying a frightened looking GeorgeNotFound. When they reached the floor, which was more of a crash landing than anything else, the older man was panting, bent over forwards, his hands trembling slightly as he fixed his goggled onto his face.

"Never... ever do that again, Quackity I swear to god-"

The man in question just grinned, tripping over his own two feet to get to his friends. Tubbo opened his arms wide as his ex-colleague all but threw himself into the boy's arms.

"Oh my god!! Tubbo!!" 

"I am right here," Tommy deadpanned, earning a hair ruffle from Eret and multiple small giggles from around them. The motion caused a pain in his heart and he grimaced.

Wilbur used to do that.

One by one, others began to arrive, Sam and Purpled both nearly crying from relief, Sapnap apologising profusely for killing Henry, Karl wrapping them both up in a tight hug, whispering promises of support, Ponk and Punz both grinned like mad men, rambling about all the stuff the boys had missed out on, barely covering their own worry. Some new people showed their faces and introduced themselves, ItsCaptainPuffy and ConnorEatsPants greeted them with kindness and sad smiles, obviously feeling out of place but trying not to make it awkward. Dream arrived not long after, armour scorching hot from his recent return from the nether.

"I saw your leader as a man that I could use to fuel my own goals. I should have seen the signs of his madness and tried to fix them, not use them. I'm sorry."

The boys forgived them.

Wing beats sounded in front of the group as a shadow loomed over their heads, someone in the group yelled out a whoop of excitement as a man with grey wings with white diamonds on the tips landed gracefully on the floor, holding his green and black bucket hat in place. Tommy felt his breath hitch in his throat.

"Tommy!! Tubbo!! Holy SHIT!!"

"Phil!"

The blond was up like a shot, bolting straight at the man and throwing himself into his arms, basically melting into a puddle. It was strange, burying his head in the chest of a man so much shorter than himself, but he did it anyway without grace.

"Dad, holy fuck."

He didn't see the way that the man's eyes widened at the title, mouthing the word 'dad' silently, but he did feel the way his strong grip tightened as he placed hand onto the back of his head and pulled him into the crook of his neck.

"Hello, Phil," Tubbo greeted as he stood, smiling softly at his friend who was only staying upright because he was leaning on Phil, who didn't seem discomforted in the slightest. That man wasn't known as the Hardcore God for nothing, after all. Those years on hardcore Minecraft servers had hardened him to the point that he was a lot, lot stronger than people pegged him to be.

"Hey Tubbo," the man greeted back, "It's good to see you again."

"Yeah. Good to see you too, Mr Minecraft."

Tommy righted himself, gripping Phil's shoulder's tightly as he grinned from ear to ear. The man brought his hand up to trace over a small scar on the boy's left cheek.

"Oh, Toms... what happened to you?"

"It's- It's a long story dad I-"

...

Phil grinned. He recognised the exact moment that Tommy realised exactly what he'd said as his face flushed red, his mouth gaping like a fish. Tubbo cackled in the background.

"Aww, Tommy. Do you think of me as a father figure?" he teased, causing the boy to scramble from his hold. All too reluctantly, he let him go.

"NO!! I just said it because- because I- OH FUCK OFF!!" 

The group laughed loudly, Niki wiping a tear from her eye and Punz trying desperately to keep his chuckles in, only to end up snorting into his fist. Tommy groaned into his hands. He was _so_ getting bullied for this later.

"It's so, so good to see you again, mates..."

"Are you crying?!"

Philza chuckled at Tommy's double take, bringing a hand up to wipe his eyes, "What? Am I not allowed to be happy to see you again? It's been over two years mate, let me have this."

Oh. Right. While it had been a year and a half since they'd run away from the SMP, it had been even longer since he'd last seen Phil, who had spent all of his time on his most recent hardcore world, building great structures like Endlantis and The Nether Void.

"I'm so sorry, Phil."

"Don't apologise. You needed time to heal. I'm only too sorry that I wasn't there to support you..."

Tubbo's eyes widened slightly, glancing around as if looking for something, "Wait, where's Wilbur, Technoblade?"

"They're back at Pogtopia. They thought it would be better to stay back for a while, let you get re-introduced to the others first before meeting again."

That made Tommy's heart hurt, but he would be lying if he wasn't slightly relieved. The thought of meeting with his old... friends made him feel nauseously sick. Could he have every called them friends? Did they ever think of him that way? He'd long since stopped calling them his brothers. As far as Tommy was concerned, his only sibling was his brother, Tubbo, and that was all he needed.

But was that really true?

"Would you like to see them, Tommy? Tubbo?" Philza asked, continuing before either boy could respond, "I know that your exile was tough on everyone, Tommy, and I know _you_ know that it took a toll on Wil's mental health. But he's been working so, so hard to get better, for both of you."

Neither Tommy nor Tubbo responded. Over time, they had both reached the same conclusion, that they were on their own, no one else to back them up. Those who pretended to be on their sides were either lying or would betray them at some point or another, even the man that Tommy trusted more than himself, Wilbur, had manipulated and gaslighted him, twisting his words with pretty lies and kind messages filled with malice and cruelty. Any allies they had were just that. Allies. Friends didn't exist for them and they both agreed that trusting someone enough to even _think_ about calling them as such was dangerous.

Wilbur had yelled at him in anger, but also smiled at him with such comfort and confidence that Tommy _wanted_ to believe him. He wanted to believe that Wilbur knew what was best for L'manberg, that Wilbur couldn't be wrong so so badly that it _hurt._ It took Tommy weeks of sitting in his bed sobbing at night, Tubbo at his side, to convince himself that no, Wilbur wasn't right for wanting to blow up Manberg. He was wrong.

But it still hurt so much.

"I- I'd like to see them again," Tubbo said, clutching the sleeve of Tommy's shirt, "If he's been making that much of an effort then... I think I want to."

The whole group of people was looking at Tommy now, their eyes felt like they were burning holes into his skin and his throat closed up. Tubbo tugged at his sleeve gently, and as their eyes met, he gave him a small nod.

Tommy nodded back.

"We'll go then," Tubbo announced and that was that.

)()()(

Even after one and a half years away, Tommy still remembered the path back to Pogtopia like the back of his hand. He hardly even needed to look as he ducked and weaved under tree branches, clambered over the worn out path by the hill and recognised the exact entrance to the cave system.

He hesitated at the door.

A calming hand gently touched his shoulder, "Come on in, mate. They'll be waiting for you."

"What if... what if they don't want to see me?"

"They do, I promise. Just come inside."

Tubbo gave his hand a small squeeze and sent him a reassuring smile before clambering through the gap in the vines.

The first thing Tommy noticed about Pogtopia was how much it had changed. It seemed that someone, probably Philza, had been refurbishing the place, using stone and cobblestone stairs to round the edges, a proper path had been put in place along the centre, the railings were wider and safer, the crosswalks from one side of the ravine to the other had wooden fences around them and there were multiple potted plants set up along the sides, giving it a homely vibe.

"Phil? Are you back already?" Someone called out from inside and Tommy nearly froze up, watching as Wilbur emerged from one of the side rooms.

He looked better than he did before. His old brown trench coat had been replaced with a warm, yellow jumper, brown tufts of hair poked out from under a red beanie sat snuggly on his head, and he wore a small, sad smile on his face, so small that it only just reached his eyes, which seemed brighter than the dull grey that Tommy had gotten used to avoiding, no longer bruised and purple underneath. 

"I didn't realise you-" he stopped in his tracks, words choking in his mouth.

"...hey Wil," Tommy greeted with a small, stiff wave of his hand, grimacing slightly. Tubbo winced beside him, "Been a while, hey big man?"

"Oh my god," Wilbur whispered, shock lacing his voice, he dropped the tools in his hands with a loud clatter, causing both boys to flinch.

Suddenly, the sound of hoofs hitting the floor with a dangerously loud thud echoed through the cave. With inhuman speed, another body appeared by Wilbur's side, the person having to clutch the doorframe to keep himself from slamming directly into the wall. The slit's of the man's mask widened, his mouth dropping open.

"Tubbo? Tommy?" Technoblade asked, sounding more confused than the two had ever heard him.

"They wanted to see you," Phil said, placing a comforting hand on each of the boy's shoulders.

Wilbur looked at the two with disbelief, eyes darting rapidly between them, "You... you wanted to see... us?"

"Yeah!" Tubbo chirped, smiling so brightly that his eyes almost scrunched closed, "It's been so long, of course we would want to see you!"

Tommy grimaced. The last thing he wanted, at the moment, was to see his old... allies again, but if it was what his brother wanted, he couldn't say no. He'd just have to deal with the sickness that plagued his stomach and bare it. Tubbo didn't seem to notice his dilemma (although all the adults in the room definitely did) as he bounded towards Wilbur and wrapped his arms around his chest, pulling him into a tight hug.

"It's so good to see you, big man!" Tubbo grinned extatically, pulling himself away before Wilbur even had time to hold onto him for long, but still holding onto his arms, "It got kinda lonely out there, it's good to be back!"

"It's good to see you too, Tubbo," Wilbur said in a hushed tone, as if only just processing the situation, placing his hands on the boy's shoulders, "I never... I didn't know if I'd see you again."

Tubbo's smile turned into a slight wince, "Sorry about that. Although, to be fair, we didn't know if we'd ever come back either. We didn't even look at the comms until yesterday!"

"You weren't going to come back?" Phil asked, brows creased in worry, "But you would have been all on your own out there. Forever."

"Yeah? And being alone was better than being here," Tommy snapped with a scoff, causing the attention of the room to fall on him.

Wilbur looked visibly upset, shoulders slumped in defeat, "Oh Tommy..."

"It's fine though," Tubbo grinned, trying to stop the awkward silence before it happened, "We had a nice little farm and everything. Oh! And we had bees! We weren't starved for anything, we had plenty of items, and we had each other!"

"Yeah, we did, Tubbo," Tommy ruffled his brother's hair with a smile, "We were perfectly fine out there. No hassle, no worries, no _wars_."

Wilbur flinched and Techno grimaced almost unnoticeably.

"Tommy," the boy looked up to his once idol, eyes calculating, almost looking foreign on his face. The childish, bright eyed look was gone, replaced with complete apathy.

"Yes, Wilbur."

"I just... I want to say I'm... I'm sorry," Wilbur's lips curled into a frown, "I'm so fucking sorry for leaving you to deal with the war on your own, for giving into my selfishness and instead of accepting your help, I drove you so far that you felt you were safer running away from everything you'd ever known than to be around me and I-" the words caught in the man's throat. Tommy's face remained emotionless, "I'm so _sorry_."

"Wilbur," their eyes met, warm, teary brown staring into cold, icy blue, "It took me two months to convince myself that I wasn't selfish for wanting to be happy. I was supposed to feel happy around you, wasn't I? You were my friend, my ally, my president, my... my _brother_. And I realised on that night that you were none of those things. You weren't my friend. I don't..." Tommy laughed, but it was bitter, "I don't even know if I was ever more than just an _asset_ to you. I gave away everything for L'manberg. My friends, my home, my discs, but you didn't even try to _listen_ to me. You didn't care about what I wanted, all you cared about was your stupid symphony that you would never get to finish."

"Tommy-" Techno tried to step in, but was cut off.

"And don't even get me started on you, Technoblade," no cheesy nickname or fond tone. Just Technoblade, "You took one look at your friend's declining mental state and thought, _'Hey, I know what will make this better. If I not only ignore but actively encourage my friend's self destructive behaviour for my own gain!'_ and how did that work out for you? Did you win the war? Are you happy now? Got all that good old fashion chaos you always went on about? I know you gathered wither skulls in an attempt to destroy everything we were fighting to gain back, you didn't care that I had fought and died for that place, you just did it 'cause you wanted to."

Philza's gaze snapped to Techno, who's jaw was clenched, "You did _what_?!"

"Was ruining my life worth it?!" the boy interrupted before the man could respond, "You didn't even look at me, Techno! You didn't care that Wil was yelling at me, or manipulating me or-" Tommy's throat closed as he dipped his head, hiding his eyes under the shadow of his hair, "You never cared. I was just an annoying kid, right? That's all I was, wasn't I Technoblade, just some annoying brat that you couldn't get rid of fast enough, who was too stupid to admit that you never cared about him enough to consider him an acquaintance, let alone a brother!"

The room became silent other than Tommy's ragged breathing. Nearly on the verge of tears, he turned his attention to Phil, feeling completely drained of all energy.

"And you never wrote back _once_."

Philza's face crumpled into despair as he caved in, grabbing his son by the shoulder and pulling him into a tight embrace. Phil closed his eyes, mumbling a small, "oh my god,", placing his head on top of the boy's despite the height difference, before he felt the boy's shoulders begin to shake and hiccup as he finally allowed tears to spill down his cheeks. He recognised this type of crying, the silent type that you have to learn to do, to learn to keep quiet and shut up. Philza felt his heart ache a little bit more.

"I'm so, so sorry, Tommy," he breathed, barely keeping his composure with the sobbing child in his arms.

"I just- I just wanted you to-to care about me," the boy hiccupped, shattering Phil's heart.

"Oh Tommy..." he cooed, "I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you when you needed me. I don't know how I can make it up to you."

The blond didn't respond, just clutching onto his father figure even harder, gritting his teeth to the point where his jaw began to ache and throb. 

Tubbo stared at his brother, who was now essentially dragging Philza to the floor with his weight, sobbing into the arms of a man who's name he had woken up screaming multiple times. No matter how much Tommy tried to hide it, the brunet knew he still had nightmares about Pogtopia, about the war, about Wilbur and about the duel, but most of all he would wake up whimpering the name of some long lost friend who never came back or never responded. As much as Tommy wanted everyone to believe that he was fearless, Tubbo knew that he had one, major fear.

The fear of being alone.

"I've... I've never seen Tommy cry before," Wilbur whispered, realisation clear in his voice. The slight narrowing of Techno's eyes indicated his agreement.

"Neither had I... until we left. Turns out that bottling it all up intense trauma isn't that healthy. Who would have thought?" Tubbo spoke sarcastically.

Tommy and Phil were basically crumpled into a pile on the floor, Tommy held awkwardly in the shorter man's lap, who ran his hand through the boy's hair, whispering comforting words and apologies into his ear.

Tubbo jumped when he felt arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling him into a tall chest, feeling Wilbur place his head on top of Tubbo's and closed his eyes, mumbling, "I'm so glad you're back, Tubs."

The boy, unable to hug him back, bent him arm to pat him on the shoulder, feeling tears claw at his eyes, "It's good to be back... even if it's only for a little while."

He could practically feel the man tense up, his grip no longer soft and comforting as he realised the implications of that sentence, his hug becoming more like a concrete fence that kept him trapped inside, "Only... only a little while?"

"I mean... yeah. We just came by to visit, that's all. We don't know how long we planned to stay for but we need to be back before winter," Tubbo informed, practically feeling Techno's hands tighten into fists, "I don't know if Tommy will be able to stay for long... he's still quite... _sensitive_ about this place."

Wilbur's grip loosened with a sigh, but remained wrapped around the boy as they watched Tommy, curled up in Phil's lap, no longer crying, but completely emotionally exhausted, his breathing deep and slow. None of them would be surprised if he'd fallen asleep.

"I- I did this... He... really was like a little brother to me," Wilbur gritted his teeth, "And look what I've done to him."

"Don't tell me that," Tubbo said back almost too quickly, "He thought of you as a brother too, both of you... Sometimes- don't tell him I told you this but sometimes he'd wake up crying your names, just screaming so loudly I-" he choked on his words, biting the inside of his lip, "I don't think he ever got better, not really."

Tubbo felt movement from beside him as Techno moved towards the duo on the floor. Phil looked up at him with calculating eyes before they softened slightly, allowing the other man to crouch down and run a hand through the boy's hair slowly, who jolted at the new hand on his head.

"I did care. I did. I just didn't realise how much until you'd left," his voice was still monotone, but quiet and rough as if his mouth were dry. Tommy all but leaned into the touch, making the man stiffen, but his hand never stopped messing with his hair, "I shouldn't have left you on your own."

There was something about seeming the normally loud and boisterous teenager sat silently in another person's lap, not even coming up with a funny quip or joke, not even saying a word, too tired to even articulate a sentence, that broke Wilbur's heart. Tubbo couldn't say the same. He'd been by his brother's side on the bad days. He'd seen worse. Techno's chest twisted with an unfamiliar feeling. 

"Do you want to sleep, Tommy?" Phil muttered into his hair quietly, hardly even feeling the small, shallow nod that the boy gave in return, "Okay. Do you want us to carry you?" another nod, "Alright. I can't carry you myself anymore, are you okay with Techno taking you instead?" there was hesitancy as the boy's shoulders squared in apprehension, "You don't have to say yes. I'm sure that me and Tubbo could find a way to get you to one of the rooms."

There was a few seconds of silence, filled with tension, before Tommy opened his mouth and only just managed to say, "Tech'"

Phil nodded, looking up to the man in front of them and releasing Tommy from his arms gently, allowing Technoblade to scoop him up like a child. Only Phil could see the grimace on his face as he did so, obviously out of his comfort zone but not complaining either. Tubbo followed along after them, as Tommy was set down in his old bed, and didn't hesitate to clamber in after him, tucking the bed sheets over them both. He took one last look at the adults in the room, who all looked somewhere between confused and fond, before muttering.

"He wont wake up crying if I'm here."

He didn't wait to see their reactions, closing his eyes and finding Tommy's hand under the sheets, linking them together and pulling Tommy's head into the crook of his neck, happy to sit with his brother in his arms in the land they once called a home. Healing would take time, that's what people had told them, but if you hammer a nail into a piece of wood, you can cover up the gap as much as you'd like, but the splintering hole is still there, no matter how much you ignore it or paint over it. Wood doesn't heal by itself. Trauma just wasn't like that.

Distantly, he could hear mumbles and mutterings, someone stomped off in frustration, another started sobbing, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He would deal with everything else tomorrow.

For now he would be content to sleep it off.


	2. To forgive

Phil watched as Tubbo clambered into the bed, settling down by Tommy's side, who had already closed his eyes again, out for the count the moment his head hit the pillow. The brunet looked up at them with eyes too old for his teenage body.

"He won't wake up crying if I'm here," he muttered as an explanation before closing his eyes too and pulling his friend into a tight embrace, placing his chin on the crown of the boy's head, oblivious to how much that shattered the man's heart. The other two men in the room seemed to stare, Wilbur looking at them with guilt and in Techno's jawline was a set, muted confusion. Phil pulled at both of his son's arms, guiding them out of the room and into the open of the ravine, where the candle lights in the lanterns had started to flicker as a draft carried through. He grit his teeth.

That didn't go to plan at all.

Techno kept staring back at the entrance to the room, as if something would happen if his eyes left for even a moment, and Wilbur wasn't looking at anything at all, bringing his finger up to his lip and biting down slightly; Phil slapped his hand away, sending him a half-hearted glare.

There was a tense moment of silence.

"What the fuck have I done?" Wilbur asked through blown wide eyes, "I've fucking ruined them-"

"No you haven't," Phil was ready to put down any sort of blame the man put on himself. Sometimes the brunet seemed to forget that he wasn't completely at fault. The situation was tough, "They aren't too far gone."

"I've never seen Tommy cry a day in my life. Not even when I was-" he sucked in a breath, "Look at the mess I've made..."

Phil reached over and planted his hand comfortingly on his shoulder, forcing Wilbur's eyes up to meet his own.

"You didn't ruin anything. We'll get through this, it'll just take time," he relaxed his features into a reassuring, "You thought you were too far gone, didn't you? Look where we are now."

Wilbur looked up at him with shining eyes, glazed over with tears, his nose turning red as his face crumpled and he released a choked sob.

"I'm goin' to do some farmin'," Techno's voice was cold and monotone as he snatched an unused iron hoe from where it propped itself up against the wall, marching down the pathway, despite the fact that he'd spent the entire previous day sowing potato seeds into the soil.

"Techno-" he was cut off by a door slamming, causing him the flinch, the sound echoing through the halls of the ravine.

Silence rang loud.

"Phil- I- Phil, how do I... how do I fix this?" Wilbur asked desperately, hope fleeting, "Wh-what do I do?"

"Wilbur I need you to look at me," Phil placed both of his hands on his son's shoulders, staring at him with a set expression of determination, "It's going to take time, and _fuck_ it's- it's not going to be easy, but the best thing you can do is let them take their time. They're young and yet they've seen so many things that no child should have to see. They're strong. Stronger than you or me or Techno. They've persevered this far, we just need to give them an extra nudge in the right direction."

The man stared at him for a moment before dropping his forehead onto Phil's shoulders and wrapping his arms around him, letting tears slide down his cheeks. Phil let him cry, knowing that he needed this, rubbing his hand over his back with a sad smile.

"It'll get better, I promise mate."

"How do you know?" Wilbur snivelled like a child, "How do you know he won't- he won't hate me. I hurt him so much I just-"

"I told you. It'll take time, and we'll need to give them a lot of space, but we can't force them to forgive nor forget," Phil explained, calmly running his hand over his son's beanie in a soothing motion, "All we can do is let them take their time."

Phil made Wilbur some tea, set him up with a few encouraging words and told him to get some rest. Deep down, he knew that Wil would probably sleep fitfully at best or not at all at worst. Insomnia had been a huge issue to overcome in the first few months of his arrival on the SMP, for both of his sons. Wilbur spent his nights lying in bed, staring up a ceiling or slouched over his desk with a pen gripped in a shaking hand, ink dripping down onto the page, or pacing the length of the ravine repeatedly, muttering under his breath.

Techno threw himself into his work. Sometimes he wouldn't be seen for days but when he was, he seemed quite content to live day by day as if nothing had happened. Tend to the garden, go out to the nether to mine ancient debris, return home, check on Wilbur, go to secondary location to deposit resources, return home. Rinse and repeat. Day after day. Sometimes he would leave for days on horseback but come home no wealthier than he'd left. Phil knew those escapades were long searches into the night, calling for boys who would seemingly never return home, but he never commented on it.

Now that Tommy and Tubbo were back home, he didn't know what to do. If he was being honest with himself, he hadn't planned this far ahead. Hovering by the stone cut doorframe, he stared in at the boys who's legs tangled themselves together, arms wrapped around each other like they would die if they let go for even a moment.

He remembered that look in Tommy's eyes, the bright, childish glow that once shone like a star was now dim, only a flickering ember remaining of what was once a rebellious, raging inferno. The people of the SMP had taken one look at a youthful, teenage boy and banished him, pushing him to flee the very nation that he built with his bare hands from the ground up. Through blood, sweat and tears, he had fought tooth and nail for his freedom, his liberty, his home, but in the end he was forced to flee further, betrayed by the friends and family he held most dear, his cries for help left mostly ignored other than by Tubbo, who fled by his side.

And Phil was angry. So so angry at the system that had failed the children of it's nation, who forced them to pick an ultimatum between their home and their happiness, who looked at a couple of kids and classified them as soldiers the second that they held up a sword to fight back against oppression. They screamed and cried and raged but all their enemies saw was a threat that needed to be taken out, to be stripped of everything they held dear, to be obliterated and destroyed for a greater cause.

The soft sound of hoof steps caught the man's attention, and he turned to see his middle child standing awkwardly nearby, lips set into a grim line. His hands were practically caked in dirt and mud and his trusty iron hoe hung limply at his side, scraping against the floor slightly. The signature red cape that usually adorned his shoulders was missing, revealing the dirty white shirt underneath, it's sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his head was void of his shining golden crown.

"Techno," the blond greeted.

"Phil," Technoblade responded.

The pink haired man approached uncharacteristically slowly, hesitantly peering around the corner to the room, looking in on where the boys slept in fleeting peace. They could both agree it was reassuring, to see them right there within sight, not far out of reach somewhere they could never find them.

Tommy whimpered in his sleep.

Tubbo held him tighter.

They stood in silence, both of them finally taking in the fact that they were safe, only used to the room seeming so empty and cold, void of all human life. They'd left everything as it had been, so it was almost like they'd never left at all. Techno broke the quiet first.

"Have... have I ever told you the story of a man named Theseus?" he asked quietly.

"No. You haven't," Phil responded. He'd known that the other had an interest in mythology, but he failed to see where this was going.

"His city state was in danger," Techno started slowly, almost unsure of the words as they left his mouth, "so he sent himself forward as a soldier into enemy lines. He saved his city from destruction, he slayed the minotaur," he explained, eyes trained solely on the teenagers, "In return for his sacrifice he was exiled by his people... He died in disgrace, hated by the very people he swore to protect with his life and honour."

Phil looked at him with curious eyes, not interrupting nor looking away.

"We let that happen to him," Techno continued, his free hand gripping into a tight fist at his side, "We let him play the hero, the good ol' protagonist and what did it get him?... Exiled. Alone."

"He wasn't completely alone," Phil replied, "He had Tubbo."

"We should have been there... _I_ should have been there."

Technoblade was a lone wolf by nature, preferring to stick by himself than trust others with his plans. He worked alone, known across servers for his deadpan expressions and quips, his unforgiving nature, his almost inability to feel remorse for his actions. He was an anarchist and he didn't hesitate to scream it to the world, challenging all who oppose him. He was a God. The Blood God. A being without hesitation or sympathy for those that he didn't know, cutting down whoever stood in his path. He was a picture perfect example of a victor. A warrior.

And yet here he stood, his words suddenly far softer than they had been the day before, as if worried he would wake the sleeping teenagers.

"Techno-"

"In my letter," he interrupted, "He asked me if I kept him around out of _pity_ , if I ever cared about him at all. He... he sounded so sure. So _sure_ that I just thought of him as an annoyance. He was like- he was like my little _brother_. He was annoyin', yeah, but I never... I never hated him, ya know?"

That had been another issue. Phil soon found out that after living alone for most of his life, without friends and without family, Techno had forgotten what it felt like to be loved. The thought of having such a pathetic weakness as familial love, seemed to unnerve him, and the prospect of having someone love him back was practically alien. To have the carpet ripped out from under him so suddenly, that the boy who he'd thought he just like to hang around with not only thought of him as a brother, but didn't believe that he was loved back pulled the wool back from his eyes and left the wound raw and gaping.

He finally realised that he cared.

After such a long period of denial it was no longer possible to look past, the thought of family had become to much more appealing and, to accommodate, Phil had started referring to him as his son more often and Wil often talked about him like he was his brother, all to constantly remind Techno of what a family was, and who it consisted of.

"He was like our little brother and we left him to rot like Theseus, in exile and disgrace," Techno sighed, running a hand down his mask, "He left thinking that I hated him."

"He's here now," Phil placed a hand on his son's shoulder with a sad smile, "And you can tell him how much you care as soon as they are comfortable. Actions speak louder than words, although I know you don't often like to use words anyway. An apology won't be enough in this situation."

"I know."

The older man sighed, not truly knowing what to say. If he was being honest with himself, he had no clue what he was doing, just another unqualified man trying to play damage control, "I've said it once and I'll say it again, they need time. We can't rush them into recovery and we can't rush them into trusting us, Techno. They don't trust us, and I don't know how long it'll take before they can even see us as people they can consider friends, let alone family."

"We messed up."

"I know, Techno."

"Is this..." the man laughed bitterly, holding a dirtied hand up to his face, which was stretched in a smile that didn't reach his eyes, "Is this what regret feels like?"

"It's fine to regret. Everyone does... I do," Phil admitted, "I regret not being there for them. For not responding to his letters, for prioritising my projects more than my own family. Everyone regrets, Techno. Even the Blood God, apparently."

"I hate it."

"It's what makes you human."

"I'm not human... not _fully_."

"If there is even a small part of you that _is_ , regret comes as part of the package."

"It's weakness."

"It's _natural_."

The pink haired man huffed, slumping his shoulders in defeat and regaining his grip on his iron hoe, "It's stupid."

"We can't control what makes us people," Phil continued brushing dirt off Techno's shoulder absentmindedly, "It's not stupid. It's just in our nature as humans, whether fully human or hybrid, to feel emotions and empathy. You see Tommy in that story, but you also see yourself, don't you?"

"... do you know how the story ends, Phil? Do you know what happens to Theseus?" Techno asked, almost hesitantly.

"I can't say I do. Why?"

Technoblade didn't answer, adjusting his grip awkwardly around the handle, "...I'm gonna... I'm gonna go-"

"Mate, how does it end?" Philza asked again, crossing his arms with a sceptical expression.

"It... it doesn't matter. It just- trust me when I say, it doesn't end well."

There was a moment of silence.

"Good things don't happen to heroes, Phil."

"You're going to bed," Phil sighed in resignation, electing to get the answer out of the man another day, before gripping his son by the wrist and practically dragging him to his an Wilbur's shared bedroom. He didn't resist, just following along with steady feet, "I know you'll end up staying up all night fretting otherwise."

"I won't be able to sleep," Techno protested weakly, but not faltering in his steps.

"Then I'll stay by your side until you do," the older man stated, "You and Wil both need rest. I am here to make sure you two idiots take care of yourselves."

As the two wondered away, the soft pattering of sandals verses the clacking off hoofs against the cobblestone floor, a blue eye cracked open slightly, half lidded in the dark. The room was silent, the candles long since put out or dimmed.

A tear slid down a scarred cheek.

)()()( 

Sparklez had never been so relieved in his life.

The championships had lost some of their... spark since the the events on another server. He'd spent quite some time hearing about said server from his young teammate, Tubbo, who gushed about all the great things they were doing on the Dream SMP, how he and his friends had created their own country and how they were fighting for independance against the server owner, Dream himself. The captain had patted him on the back for a job well done, with a small, _"That's great kid,"_ before spinning on his heal and jumping back into the fray of the battle box, distantly hearing the boy dash to the next person on their team to ramble about his friends and his adventures. He honestly hadn't paid much attention to it.

He regretted that decision.

One month, no one from the SMP participated. When asked about it, Scott merely shrugged his shoulders. It was strange to have nearly a third of their tournament partners missing, but they managed to have a brilliant time anyway, Jordan's team coming in a solid third. Then the next month, again, no one arrived. The captain had asked one of his teammates about it, only to have Pete say that he hadn't heard from his former ally, Technoblade, in weeks, telling him that the warrior had recently joined the SMP, only to go radio silent for a while. Apparently there was some major issues in the server with elections and politics and things the captain didn't care for, so he, regretfully, stayed out of the loop.

Philza didn't seem worried about it, at least. He just laughed it off and patted the man on the shoulder.

_("Those kids are always getting off into trouble. Sometimes it's just better to let 'em do what they gotta do.")_

One day, Sparklez made the decision to message Tubbo to see how he was. It was more out of a childish curiosity than anything else, but some distant part of him missed having the kid on his team, rambling about red stone or his friends or his latest projects.

_Tubbo_ messaged you: it's kinda stressful, some stuff happened but we're coping!_

_Coping?_ That was... ominous.

The next month, there was still nothing and people were starting to get worried, even Phil, who apparently hadn't heard from his... sons? Hadn't heard from his sons in weeks. Scott continued to deny that he had any clue where the members were. Multiple people messaged them, only receiving vague answers in response. Everyone was on edge.

_You messaged Tubbo_: Hey, how are you and your friend doing? How's the server?_

_You messaged Tubbo_: We don't really know what's going on over there, you mind filling me in?_

He never received an answer.

As far as he, and many other players were concerned, Tommy and Tubbo were dead, long gone from their SMP, hardly leaving a trace of themselves other than little notes and gifts to the people they'd left behind. No one ever found their bodies, but the server was so vast they probably never would.

People slowly began to return to the championships. First, it was Fundy and Eret, who practically everyone swarmed for answers, all of them desperate for any semblance of reassurance, including Jordan himself but the two dragged their teammates by their collars to another part of the lobby to avoid the attention. Sparklez noticed the looks in their eyes when they heard his plea to hear of Tubbo's safety.

Soon other people began to join again, Phil stopped participating to join the Dream SMP, to try and sort out the mess, as did Captain Puffy and Connor. A group of people joined in during the next MCC, four boys who each promised that they'd win the tournament for Business Bay, and proceeded to absolutely slaughter the competition with a ferocity that hardly any of them had ever seen, standing on the podium as the impossible victors and holding their heads up to the sky, golden crowns of victory shining brightly on their heads. 

_("We know he's still out there, and when he gets back we're gonna rub this victory in his face," one of them grinned, but it was strained, denial thick in his tone. The others didn't try to dispute his statement, knowing sadness in their young expressions.)_

Now here Sparklez stood, staring at the screen of his communicator with wide eyes and a grin forming on his face, ignoring the fast approaching footsteps to his left. He was right in the middle of a particularly intense game of parkour tag and he was the last remaining member of his team, all of his fellow teammates being caught out early on in the round and he'd been running like his life depended on it, ducking and weaving through the terrain, juking and turning on his heals at a moments notice, but at that moment, he couldn't have given less of a damn about victory. Bitzel skidded to a halt only a few feet away with the tilt of his head.

"Uh... you gonna run, or should I just tag you?" It wouldn't take much for the boy to get him, Sparklez was cornered and easily within arms reach, but he didn't budge, looking up at his enemy with shining eyes.

"They've been found. Tommy and Tubbo, they came back." 

The other player stared at him for a moment, before he sucked in a large breath, pupils constricting. It was no secret that Bitzel was close to Tommy, both of them sharing an allegiance to their faction of Business Bay back on SMP Earth. His disappearance had hit him and his friends hard.

"...what?"

Jordan all but shoved the communicator into his enemy's hands, being careful not to make skin on skin contact as to not get automatically tagged out. He distantly heard voices from over his head set, curious voices calling out in confusion, but with the press of a button, they were silenced.

"He- no... really?!" Bitzel looked happier than the captain had ever seen him. He snapped out of his stupor, shaking his head with an almost comical enthusiasm as he rushed to put his finger to his ear piece, "Guys! It's Tommy, he's been found!"

Sparklez nearly winced at how loudly his teammates responded, the shouts only muffled by the other player's ear.

"Yeah! Check your comms," he said, pulling own device out of his pocket and checking his messages, "He's... he's actually back- I never-"

And for once, the older of the two took a moment to realise just how young the boy in front of him was, only just going on eighteen. This teenager had spent the last year and a half never knowing if his younger friend was safe, holding tightly onto that childish hope that Tommy would one day come home, a hope that many adults had long since given up on. The older players had looked upon him and his friends with pitying eyes as they chanted about the good times, about their time at Business bay, and about what they would say when Tommy finally reappeared. His other allies were young too, the youngest being sixteen, far too youthful to have to know what it feels like to live in a constant state of unknowing, of fleeting desperation and longing, wishing for something that would never be.

"I never thought I'd see the day," Jordan laughed, running a hand through his hair, "You can... you can finally tell him about your MCC win, like you said you would."

Bitzel looked at him with a gaping mouth, before a tight lipped, wet grin slowly spread across his face, "Yeah... I-I guess I can."

They were cut off by the ticking timer sounding suddenly in their ears, causing both of them to jump. There was only thirty seconds left of the round, before they would have to move on to the next. It signalled the end of their small heart to heart. They looked at each other.

"Should I- uh..."

"Go ahead," Jordan shrugged, holding his arm out for the boy to tag, and grinned wider than he had in a long time, "Go talk to your friends."

Bitzel met his gaze with thankful eyes, seeming slightly unsure of himself, before he nodded with a fixed determination, reaching his hand forward and tagging the older man straight on the forearm with force. 

There was a buzzing sensation as he felt the server recognise the contact, and his stomach flipped at the force of the teleportation. Last thing the captain saw, before his world turned black, was the expression of a child, finally at ease.

)()()(

Wilbur awoke in the dead of night, just like usual.

His sleep pattern had become scuffed since his exile from L'manberg as his mental health deteriorated right in front of his eyes, and even a year and a half later, he would often rouse from his sleep at ungodly hours. Luckily, he was usually able to drift back into unconsciousness, but he knew from the moment his eyelids fluttered open that it would be one of _those_ nights. The bad nights.

Phil was sat in a chair by his bed, seemingly fallen asleep sitting up. His arms were folded and his mouth remained open in a silent snore, his head lolled so his chin nearly touched the top of his collar bone. Across the room, Techno slept like a brick, his mask discarded on the bedside table and his entire body curled up into itself; the smallest Wilbur had ever seen him was always when he was sleeping.

He shoved the covers off himself and pulled his body to it's feet, taking a moment to stabilise himself as his head spun slightly from the abrupt change in position. Slowly, he trudged out into the open of the ravine, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he went, and almost missing the other figure that sat on a small, makeshift wooden chair.

"Tubbo? What are you doin' up?" Wilbur mumbled, catching the smaller boy's attention. Although it had been years since he'd left, Tubbo really hadn't grown much, reaching only 5'6, and that was probably rounding up at best.

"Wilbur?" he asked, turning to face him, holding a steaming cup of tea in his hands, "I- I guess I could ask you the same thing, big man."

The man, fiddled with his sleeve, approaching the younger of the two, "I've... I still have trouble sleeping sometimes. I guess I'm still coming to terms with you... you know, being here."

Tubbo smiled softly, taking a sip out of his cup, "Yeah. I needed to get up and have a walk around. We don't really... _I_ don't really do well, sleeping in new places."

"Yeah..."

The silence that followed wasn't _uncomfortable_ , but Wilbur definitely wouldn't describe it as _comfortable_ either. It just _was._

"Would you like me to make you some?" the boy asked, lifting his mug slightly, "I can always make more."

And Wilbur looked at this little boy, only seventeen or eighteen years old, he remembered when they'd first met, when Tubbo and Tommy were just small names in a vast world, when he was only a fifteen year old, bright eyed kid, who built red stone contraptions and sold oranges and took hits on people for ridiculous prices. He looked at the boy who had joined him and Tommy in their tiny, four man rebellion, and fought valiantly for their land and their liberty. He looked at the child who was forced to stand at the side of a tyrant, watching with teary eyes as his friends were forced out of their own nation, and was made to build and decorate what would have been his own execution. He looked at this kid, who, by all means, had become another little brother, who had run away from everything he had created to keep himself and his best friend safe from Schlatt. From Wilbur. From the war that waged between torn apart countries and democracy.

"Yeah... I think I'd like that."

So there they found themselves, old allies who finally found each other after years of separation, sipping on steaming cups of tea and letting the soft swaying of lantern light lull them into a sense of self comfort. It had taken a while for Wilbur to understand what comfort was, to relearn how to take care of himself. There was no point in just staring at the ceiling and thinking about his mistakes. 

"I'm so sorry," he muttered, ignoring the look he got from the teenager, "Words can't describe how much I regret it."

And Tommy's eyes weren't the only ones that had lost their spark, Wil realised as Tubbo stared at him carefully. Instead of a raging fire, however, a warm glow flickered from the embers of determination, a simple, hopeful reminder of the childish life he once lived. 

"I forgive you," the teenager sighed, "Tommy does too, I think."

_What?_

"I know it sounds stupid but... sometimes he'd just start rambling about all the good times with you. About our fight for L'manberg's independance, and he'd, like, really smile. _Really_ smile. He doesn't think you're a bad person, he's just been hurt by you. It'll take a while to get better."

And Wilbur took a moment to take that all in, because jeez that was _a lot_.

"He thought you hated him," Tubbo continued, "He thought _you_ thought he was a liability, that you didn't trust him. He's hurting a lot, I can tell but... I think being here can help him to get better. _Us_ to get better. He never stopped caring about you, in his own, TommyInnit way, you know?"

The man stared at him, glowing blue meeting soft brown, and his jaw began to tremble, "I'm _so_ sorry-"

"I know," the boy smiled calmly, placing his small hand over Wilbur's large, scarred one, "And that's a step in the right direction right? You're sorry and he wants to forgive you."

All he could do was nod mutely, staring down at his mug that he clasped in both hands, watching the steam slowly rise, "I... I don't think I'm going to be getting much sleep tonight."

"Me neither," Tubbo admitted sheepishly, "Do you wanna... come sit by Tommy's bed with me? I need to be there in case he has a nightmare. I've already been away long enough."

Wilbur' heart felt warm. _Of course_ Tubbo would think of that.

"Yeah. I'd love to."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Catch me crying over fictional, role play, block men. These recent streams have been several punches directly to my gut.

**Author's Note:**

> i spent way way too long on this jesus christ  
> if i missed any tags please let me know


End file.
